Brave the Storm
by raccoonsmate4life
Summary: She knows he's scared. Hell, she's scared too. They worked too damn hard to get to where they are now to let this investigation and these charges tear them apart. A collaboration between aprylynn, hermionesmydawg, and raccoonsmate4life. Set after Internal Affairs (7x10).


_**A/N -** A little while ago, our awesome friend maybemadmarie requested another collab with some angsty sexy times post-Internal Affairs. This probably turned out more angsty and less sexy than we all thought it would, but we hope you enjoy it :)_

 _Set after Internal Affairs (7x10), but not really a speculation story…more of a wishful thinking sort of story. Assumes Deeks is released, but not exactly innocent._

* * *

She didn't say anything when he walked out of the LAPD detention center, a man rejoining the free world, after some of the longest 24 hours of both their lives. Not when he pulled her in for a tight hug, her arms reflexively wrapping around his waist, her nose buried in his chest. Not when he murmured how sorry he was over and over again and pressed his lips to her forehead as she let out a shaky breath.

She didn't say anything when they climbed into her car and he could visibly see the tension building in her shoulders. Not as she started driving with a grip on the steering wheel so strong, her knuckles were white. Not when she studiously avoided looking in his direction and a slight scowl settled on her face.

Ten minutes into their ride, she finally does say something.

"I get it now."

He certainly wasn't expecting that.

Kensi's eyes remain firmly on the road as her whispered admission hangs in the heavy air between them. With a slightly stunned expression on his face, Deeks stares at her, unsure what to make of her confession and the soft tone of her voice that is in stark contrast to her body language.

Before he can ask what she means, Kensi continues, "Last month, when we were investigating Sam's former partner…I didn't get how anyone could want to protect someone who was accused of murdering another person, no matter who they were to each other. And I didn't get how you could be so sure that you would do that for me." She takes a deep breath, finally letting her eyes wander to meet his. "And I'm still confused and upset and angry, but…I get it now."

She turns her attention back to the road and exhales as she tries to let go of some of the tension in her shoulders. She really does get it – she's spent the past day supporting him and defending him and clearing his name. It never crossed her mind to do anything else – not when she didn't know anything and not even after she found out everything.

The hard part hadn't been trying to protect him. The hard part is trying to protect herself from the hurt settling deep within her heart at the realization that there are reasons why he thought continually denying anything and everything was better than giving her any insight into what he was up against.

"Kens…" Deeks trails off, unsure of what he could possibly say in this moment. He can only imagine the inner turmoil this is causing her. He was on the other side four years ago, when she was accused of murdering members of her dad's unit, except they were just partners then and she couldn't have known that the things she was withholding from him would eventually affect him in any way.

He knows, undoubtedly, that that's the glaring difference in their situations. They _aren't_ just partners anymore and he _knew_ that whatever was going to happen was going to affect her too. He had just been so caught up in shielding her, and them, from what happened, that he couldn't see just how much she wanted to protect him too until it was almost too late.

She interrupts his thoughts, "I think I'm just going to drop you off and go back to my place."

He's expecting that one, but it makes his heart sink anyway. He wants to object – to refuse to let her push him away tonight – but he's struggling to find the words to change her mind.

Kensi loves him. She tells him that every day and he believes it…almost every day. But there are parts of him he can't let her see because it scares the hell out of him to think that if she saw too much of the bad, the good wouldn't be enough to keep her.

He loves her too. God, does he love her. But he can't help but wonder if that really is what matters the most. Can love really conquer all? He lets out a short sigh as he realizes there's only one way to find out.

When Deeks doesn't respond right away, Kensi's gaze shifts to his still form sitting in the passenger seat. His eyes are on her, and his expression is sad. She fights an overwhelming urge to snap at him to say something – anything.

He's spent all these months lying to her and she's pissed and it hurts. She wants to yell at him for letting her be blindsided by all of this, to make him understand what it did to her to watch him being cuffed for something he's denied knowing about every time she asked. More than that, she wants to understand him too. She knows he must have countless reasons for handling this like he did and she knows she'll probably disagree with most of them, but she wants to hear them. She wants him to trust her enough to explain it all to her.

She needs time to herself but she also needs him to fight her – to fight _for_ her. She needs to put distance between them but she's also desperate to feel his body pressed against every inch of hers, his hands in her hair, his lips on her skin.

He's always so willing to give her whatever she needs, but tonight, she doesn't know what that is and she wants him to take charge.

"No."

Maybe he really can read her mind. His voice is hushed and he sounds hesitant, but it's a step in the right direction.

"No?" She's skeptical but her heart is pounding with anticipation.

"No," he repeats, more sure of himself now. "We need to talk…or not talk. Or whatever. But we need to do it together. We're going to figure this out."

Kensi looks at him and the fire in his eyes takes her breath away and turns her on all at the same time. "Fine," she relents, knowing he was expecting her to put up more of a fight, and turns the car around. "My place. Your mom is still at yours."

His mom's presence in his home aside, Kensi is also still feeling off-balance enough to need to be in her own space, surrounded by the comforts of her stuff.

She ignores the ever-present thought that it doesn't feel as much like home as it used to.

When they arrive at her place, she climbs out of her car and walks to her front door without looking back, as if he isn't even there behind her. When she unlocks the door, she leaves it open for him and heads straight for her kitchen. She reaches up and digs through the cupboard until she finds what she's been thinking about all damn day. A half full bottle of Jack Daniel's. It's not her favorite brand of whiskey, but it's what does the trick at the end of a hellish day. She likes to save the good stuff for happier times and celebrations. And does she ever hope that will be in their future again, but right now, fear keeps rising, telling her that may not ever happen. She opens the bottle and takes a swig, hoping to take the edge off her nerves. She takes out two tumbler glasses and pours about three fingers worth in each.

She takes another drink as she hands the other glass to Deeks. "If I need this right now, then I'm sure you need it even more."

"Thanks," he says softly.

Their hands touch as she passes the glass and she is a storm of thoughts and emotions. She loves his touch and she craves it everyday. Holding his hand, leaning against him, running her fingertips along the scruff on his jaw, feeling his strong heartbeat through his chest, pressing against him as he holds her. She wants it all, but she also needs to focus. They can't just forget what's happened, even though they'd both want nothing more.

Her whiskey is almost gone, but he just places his on the counter, staring at it. He insisted on coming home with her and she understands why. He's just as scared as she is. He knows he's fucked up and he has to try and fix it - but how?

She lets the uncomfortable silence remain. As much as she'd love to just take charge and spill her guts and rant and rave at him and come up with solutions and plans and strategies and make him tell her everything - she also wants him to be the one to start. For months, she's been trying to be patient with him. Giving him space, showing him she believes in him, outright asking him what the hell is going on. None of this got her any closer to the truth. So right now, she's doing nothing. He is the one who wanted them to be together tonight, so he will be the one to show her why.

"I know I screwed up." His voice is quiet and defeated and breaks her heart a little bit. She keeps her mouth shut and lets him continue. "I knew they were close to arresting me and I should have told you." He's still avoiding eye contact with her, tipping his glass back and forth.

Her glass is now empty, but she decides against filling it again. Maybe if this goes badly and he ends up going home, maybe then she'll finish off the bottle and get wasted in peace. But this is important, so she sets her glass down and waits.

He finally lifts his gaze, but still looks anywhere but at her. "I knew it was wrong to keep you in the dark. The whole time, I hated myself because I knew how much it would hurt you and make you angry. I... I don't really know why I did it."

"Are you sure?" Her harsh tone surprises even her, but she isn't sorry. Not even when his eyes meet hers for the first time since they arrived here and she sees his genuine regret. The whiskey might be partly to blame, but she is done tiptoeing around him.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Just what I said. Are you sure you don't know why you did it? Because you've had a lot of time to think about your actions and I'm sure you came up with at least one tiny bit of insight as to why you were doing it."

Fire starts to return to his eyes and she feels warm all over. Anticipation and anger and passion course through her. It has nothing to do with the alcohol and everything to do with him.

He takes in a deep breath. "How are you so certain you would understand?" The question is quiet, almost a growl.

"Excuse me?" She can't really believe what she just heard.

"You keep asking me to open up and tell you things and explain myself. How are you so sure you want to hear the answers?"

"Because we're partners and you're my boyfriend and I want to share my life with you and I want you to share your life with me. That means _everything_ , Deeks."

He shakes his head and lets out a sound that's almost resembles a laugh (but is definitely not). "You don't even know what you're asking. There are things I've been through and things I've done that would be too much for you."

"You're acting like I've had this perfect sheltered life." She tries to compose herself, but the volume of her voice is increasing. "You know the shit I've seen and experienced. How the fuck can you say that whatever you're hiding would be too much for me?"

"Yes, I know all that, Kens. But fuck, I mean - You've never lived in a house where you were terrified of the one person who was supposed to be protecting you. You've never had to be undercover for months at a time, having to forget who you really are. You've never had to become a fucking scumbag just to get a job done. So don't tell me that you would understand everything I've ever been through because you wouldn't."

The fire in his eyes is blazing now. She is furious and excited all at the same time. Finally, _finally_ , after months of avoidance and non-answers, here is exactly why he's been silent. And she doesn't know whether to scream at him or kiss him.

"You might be right, Deeks. I've never been through those things. I might not understand. But you didn't even give me the chance to try."

"What happens if you don't like what you hear?" He's looking down at the whiskey again.

She lets out an exasperated sigh. "Then we work through it and move on."

"And what if we can't? What if I do what you want and I tell you all of it - and it changes everything?"

She's regretting not pouring herself another drink earlier. "It sounds like you don't have much faith in me. Or in us."

He's still not looking at her and he seems to be shutting down again. Fury burns through her as she internally screams at him to just keep fucking talking to her. How are they going to even attempt to get through this if he keeps shutting her out.

She knows he's scared. Hell, she's scared too. They worked too damn hard to get to where they are now to let this investigation and these charges tear them apart. Kensi Blye is nothing if not a fighter and she cannot let that happen. Throughout their partnership and now their relationship, they've often been terrible at communicating with each other. Words failed both of them more times than they would like. But ever since last Christmas (and a couple times before that), they have always been able to show each other how they felt.

Maybe now is the time for showing.

With one stride, she's right in front of him, hands on his face. He's stunned and can't resist as she pulls his face towards hers. She covers his mouth and kisses him fiercely, pouring all of her passion, frustration, anger, and love for him in this kiss. He quickly recovers from the shock of her sudden movements, opening his mouth to devour her as her fingers weave their way through his messy hair. Her touches are rough and desperate, like she's afraid to let go for fear he might be taken away from her again. She claws at his back and then digs her fingers a little too firmly into his hips. A force she can't explain is controlling her now.

He slides his tongue along hers as he grabs her hips and pushes her against the nearest wall. The rough impact forces a gasp to escape from her, breaking the kiss. Her intense gaze meets his and for a moment time stops. They are the only two people in the world, protected from all the horrible things that might destroy them, that might ruin the thing most important to them. For a brief moment, everything is perfect.

But the moment is fleeting, the rush of blood to her head temporarily clouding her vision. He's beaten and she's about to fall apart. They're anything but perfect. His hands leave her hips and grasp hers, peeling them away from his body. "What are you doing?" He asks, his voice soft and confused, like he doesn't understand how she could want to touch him right now. "I thought you were pissed?"

"I'm pissed as hell, Deeks," she growls. Snatching her hands away, she twists her fingers in the hem of his shirt, tugging at him anxiously. She kisses his neck and his bruised cheek, causing him to wince in her ear, but she can't seem to stop herself. The emotions have to come out somehow, and screaming just won't be enough. "I'm pissed at LAPD for doing this to you."

"I'm fine," he tries to soothe her, but she doesn't even hear him. Deeks can feel her trembling as she frantically fumbles with his shirt and the button of his jeans. He never did get his belt back after being processed at the station. "Kens..."

"I'm pissed at you," she continues, her voice growing higher and louder. "You, I'm pissed at you because I tried so hard and gave you so many chances to just tell me what was going on and you still didn't believe that I could handle whatever the hell kind of shit you've done. Well guess what? It hurts a lot more to hear it from somebody else. It hurt like hell to see you taken away, to see you behind bars, and being completely and utterly helpless to stop it, Deeks."

"Baby, I know, and I'm so sorry-" The apology is interrupted by her lips crashing into his again. Her head is spinning, and she's pretty sure his is, too. Even she can't quite figure out whether she's trying to fight him or fuck him. Maybe she's trying to do both.

Kensi finally gets his jeans open and pushes them to the floor. Though his words are timid, he returns her affections, pressing his body flush against hers. Trapping her between him and the wall, he slips her hands into her pants, deftly unfastening them. They don't fall as easily as his did, but he peels them down her legs, panties included. She bucks her hips against him, slipping her fingers under the waistband of his boxers as his hand sneaks up her shirt, roughly grasping her breast. She moans into him, trying to break their kiss. "I'm pissed at myself," she confesses, yanking his boxers down.

"No, no, no..."

"Yes," she hisses. She pulls her chest back, tugging his shirt over his head and tossing it to the side. The stench of the jail stings her nose, reminding her again of everything she could have lost today. She grabs one of his hands and forces it between her legs, eliciting a sweet groan from his lips. Deeks is never hesitant with her, and she doesn't need him to start acting that way now. "I'm pissed at myself," she repeats, closing her eyes with a gasp when he slides two fingers inside of her. A needy moan covers the cracking of her voice. "Because I've realized that it doesn't matter what you do, I'm still gonna fucking love you."

He freezes for a moment, his warm breath blowing on her chin and fingers holding her captive. Standing before her, against her, is the man that up until yesterday she thought she knew like the back of her hand. She was wrong, but she wants to know him like that, to understand why he is who he is and does what he does. When she stares into his blue eyes, so sad today but still so comforting to her, she knows that what she just confessed is true. And without a doubt, she knows he feels the same way. It scares the shit out of her and makes her question her sanity, but her acceptance of him seems to fill some existing hole for Deeks, sparking life and light back into him again.

"I love you," he murmurs, drawing her bottom lip between his teeth. Those words attempt to haunt her again, the way they did as she tried and failed to sleep the previous night. But she pushes that away, focusing on the difference in his inflection today and the matching rhythm of his breath and plunging fingers. This connection and more is what she needs to help her move past the secrets and mystery still shrouding her lover. And with his tongue lightly dancing over her mouth and his hand simply teasing her, more is the operative word.

"Deeks." She breathes his name against his lips. Nudging him with her hip, she grips his growing erection firmly, stroking him until he is long and hard in her hand. "You were just arrested for murder. You spent last night in jail. Is this really all you want to do to me?"

He blinks and tilts his head. "No."

The palms of his hands are on her waist in seconds, flipping her around. She braces herself against the wall, instantly regretting her decision to try to undress them both so quickly. His jeans and boots jingle against hers on the floor as he grabs her hips and thrusts inside her with one swift motion. The sweet burn overwhelms her, morphing into intense pleasure as he fills her with long, deep strokes from behind. Her nails scratch the wall and she squeezes her eyes tight, unable to stop the cries from escaping her lips as he fucks her with reckless abandon. He's everywhere at once - fingers in her hair, teeth on her neck, throaty whispers in her ear. It's carnal and desperate, the pounding of flesh against flesh, but it's the escape they need to clear their minds.

He wraps an arm around her waist, rubbing his fingers between her legs. "Come on, Kens. Let go."

She whimpers and nods, letting him bring her to the brink of insanity, to make her feel like everything from the tips of her toes to her messy hair would catch fire until she finally finds her peace. Pushing off the wall, she holds his arm as he clutches her, whispering her name as he spills himself inside her. The way he says her name is so haunted that it sends a chill down her bare legs.

For a few moments they just stand there. He holds her tight, pressing his face against her shoulder, as they both try to catch their breath.

Sex with him has always done wonders for making her feel better at the end of a shitty day. And even though he is the cause, this time is no exception. She is still trying to sort out the whirlwind of thoughts going through her mind, but at least now it seems a little calmer. One thought in particular is standing out. One that has been on her mind for months, ever since Sam said it to her in the armory.

 _Seek first to understand, then be understood._

She turns around in his arms, stumbling a bit over her jeans. Their state of almost undress must be a strange sight and something they probably would have laughed over if the circumstances had been different. But now they just embrace each other, as if that's all they need to keep them together.

"I meant was I said earlier." She spoke softly.

"Which part?" He sounds timid, seemingly afraid of her answer.

"I love you no matter what." She pulls away just enough to look at his face and she's so relieved that he doesn't avoid her gaze. "Also that I'm pissed. I meant that too. But, more importantly... I could never stop loving you."

The corners of his mouth turn up slightly and he lets out a breath. "I love you, too. And I meant it when I said I was sorry."

"I know you did."

"So... what do we do now?"

"Well, for starters maybe we should clean ourselves up. And then... you could start from the beginning?"

His face is unreadable for a moment and the fear that he might be shutting down is bubbling up inside of her. But then he smiles again. "That could take a while. How much time do you have?"

"For you? All the time in the world."


End file.
